Twinkle(the real thing)
by Tori Azzoli
Summary: Season: R; just after breakup; 1 800 656 HOPE; I must have been stoned when I wrote this...


twinkle tori azzoli  
  
  
  
(an: this song is not written by me, unfortunately,  
  
but by the amazing tori amos. hey, I use her music  
  
a lot, huh? I would have used one of my own songs,  
  
but didn't have the time on my hands at that period. if  
  
you or someone you know has encountered this  
  
experience, there is help, and it isn't your fault.  
  
dial 1 800 656 hope, RAINN, the Rape, Abuse, Incest  
  
National Network, also founded by tori.  
  
muchos gracias to my favorite bitch, kay, shannon -  
  
for being such a bitch and getting me my very  
  
first song-, ummm, lots of other people, and even more people!  
  
to all y'all anti-"boy band"-ers -- -- I love you! email  
  
me @  
  
toriazzoli@tori.net or  
  
slide@tori.net  
  
3 *thanx Sky!*  
  
  
  
twinkle  
  
She ran through the overly crowded streets. There  
  
were only a handful of people scurrying about, but they  
  
were too many for the young, violated girl bustling  
  
through hell.  
  
  
  
Saying that she hated herself, everything, and everyone  
  
around her, was truly an understatement. The girl  
  
loathed and utterly detested everything; but life in  
  
general, was her main problem.  
  
  
  
Before exiting school, everything was fine, although  
  
there was that nagging, dark feeling in the pit of her  
  
stomach. She had passed a pop quiz in algebra with  
  
flying colours, gotten good news on her dying friend's  
  
health, and had a date planned with her boyfriend.  
  
Everything was going great.  
  
  
  
Until her beau revealed his "true" feelings: that he didn't  
  
want her around anymore.  
  
She had stared at him in shock. There was no way  
  
any of the words coming out of his mouth were true.  
  
They wouldn't be true; she refused to believe them. It  
  
was crazy. And horribly true.  
  
He shut the door in her face, and left the heartbroken  
  
teenage girl sobbing at his steps.  
  
Some time later she was found wandering the city's  
  
dark alleys, by the worst kind of evil.  
  
He drove himself into her innocent soul time after time,  
  
until she was left on the cement, shattered; both  
  
physically and mentally. After what seemed like forever,  
  
the girl found the strength to move, and began to trek  
  
towards some unknown destination, unsure, herself, to  
  
where her memory was dragging her.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A young man stared out onto the dark town. His  
  
apartment was located on the top of the building, enabling  
  
him to look upon the entire city of Azabu, Tokyo without  
  
being seen.  
  
He blinked for a moment, doing a double take on the girl  
  
downstairs, darting through people, and - - heading towards  
  
his home? When he reopened his eyes and looked around,  
  
she was nowhere to be found. Glancing at his clock,  
  
reading two am, he decided she was a figment of his tired  
  
imagination; and that it was time for bed.  
  
He slowly made his way to sleep, after lying in bed for several  
  
minutes. Haunting visions of a special young woman, of  
  
whom was a major part of his life, plagued his dreaming  
  
state. He ignored the feeling and tried to get some rest,  
  
knowing full well that his blonde angel would be better  
  
off, and happier, without him.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The girl almost collapsed from exhaustion as she  
  
neared the familiar doorsteps she had seen not so long  
  
ago. Blood was flowing freely down a good portion of  
  
her body, and had started seeping into the carpet. She  
  
looked down at her crawling position and finally realized  
  
how badly her small form was tattered. Fresh tears  
  
sprang to her eyes when pain from knocking at the door,  
  
flooded every neuron in her body.  
  
  
  
Even more blinded her vision when her eyes met those of  
  
the apartment's occupant.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
He stared at the girl, just barely standing, in front of him.  
  
It was a miracle she hadn't died of blood loss.  
  
  
  
There was a cut over her left eye, three long slices  
  
running down her left shoulder, four on her right;  
  
scratches and bruises all over her face and neck, her  
  
shirt was almost completely torn off of her heaving  
  
chest, as well as her skirt: it was split right down the  
  
middle, baring her torn innocence.  
  
  
  
He brought his gaze back up to meet the girl's. She was  
  
no longer the perky, giddy teenager he had known and  
  
loved. There was no light in her usually bright eyes; only  
  
darkness and terrible misery. She was now an abused  
  
woman who had been through more pain in a few hours,  
  
than most people endure in a lifetime.  
  
  
  
The girl looked back at him, silently beseeching him to  
  
help her get through the pain. He gave her a small smile  
  
and held out his arms for comfort. A glimmer of hope  
  
dawned on her face and she welcomed the embrace. the  
  
young man lifted her further into his arms and carried her  
  
inside to lie down. The door was shut and the girl sat up  
  
on the couch, wanting someone to talk to her and hold her,  
  
and tell her everything would be okay. Getting no response  
  
from the man on the other side of the room, brought her  
  
even deeper into her depression. All she had ever given him  
  
was love, kindness, and, she had though, happiness. Hut he  
  
had never returned the favour, always distancing himself from  
  
everyone.  
  
  
  
The man glanced over at the faded woman sitting on his  
  
couch; so close, yet so far away. Tears were raining down  
  
her cheeks, yet again, and little did he know, they were because  
  
of HIS insecurities about life.  
  
  
  
He walked over and sat down beside the crying girl, who  
  
leaned onto his shoulder. Not caring about later washing the  
  
blood-stained shirt, he wrapped his arms around her once again.  
  
The man knew nothing about what it felt like to be the depressed  
  
girl in his arms, at the moments that counted the most and worst  
  
in her life; but could feel her tension.  
  
  
  
He pressed butterfly-like kisses on the top of her head and all  
  
over her face, chanting "I'm sorry," over and over, as if a  
  
proclamation of love.  
  
  
  
All the girl could do was cry into his shirt and hold onto  
  
him for dear life. Knowing how horrible she must've looked,  
  
she buried herself in his embrace.  
  
  
  
After the cries subsided, the man lifted her up in his arms  
  
again, heading for the bathroom. Sitting the girl on the  
  
counter, he motioned for her to stay, and began running  
  
the tub water. Promising that he wouldn't hurt her, he  
  
asked the girl to take off her clothes and get into the water.  
  
She obliged, and relaxed in the warmth that the liquid  
  
brought her. Quickly, the water began turning pink, then  
  
a bright scarlet from all the blood emitting from the girl  
  
resting in it.  
  
  
  
The man started light conversation, occasionally bringing  
  
a giggle to spill forth from the girl. He filled a cup with fresh,  
  
hot water and dipped a cloth in it. The girl stepped out of the  
  
tub and wrapped a towel around herself, draining the water.  
  
  
  
A smile crept onto the man's face as the girl pulled his towel  
  
up close to the skin of her neck, a blush staining her cheeks.  
  
  
  
She sat back onto the counter as the man proceeded to clean  
  
her wounds. After properly disinfecting her arms, legs and face,  
  
he started easing the towel off, when the girl locked his wrists in  
  
a death grip. She shook her head violently, telling him 'no.' He  
  
looked sternly at her and told her that there were likely to be  
  
many more injuries that needed cleaning on the covered area of  
  
her body. The girl continued shaking her head and wrapped her  
  
arms around herself. the man stepped back and sighed. 'difficult,  
  
as always,' his eyes seemed to say. Another blush made its  
  
way to her face as she let him clean the majority of her remaining  
  
wounds. He kept his hands from the one place that was sure to  
  
cause some discomfort. She was hurt enough already.  
  
  
  
After taking care of the girl's many scratches and bruises, the man  
  
produced a shirt and pants for the girl to wear for sleep. She  
  
dressed and he ushered her to bed.  
  
  
  
Planting a light kiss on the woman's forehead, he left the room  
  
with a slow record on. Before leaving, he heard the lyrics to one  
  
of the songs,  
  
  
  
"sure that star can twinkle  
  
you're watching it do  
  
boy so hard  
  
boy so hard  
  
but I know a girl  
  
twice as hard  
  
and I'm sure  
  
said I'm sure  
  
she's watching it too  
  
no matter what tie she's got in her right dresser  
  
tied  
  
I know she's watching that star  
  
  
  
gonna twinkle  
  
gonna twinkle  
  
gonna twinkle  
  
  
  
and last time I knew  
  
she worked in an Abbey in Iona  
  
she said, "I killed a man T  
  
I've gotta stay hidden in this Abbey"  
  
but I can see that star  
  
when she twinkles  
  
and she twinkles  
  
and I sure can  
  
that means  
  
I sure can  
  
  
  
that means  
  
I sure can  
  
so hard  
  
so hard,'  
  
  
  
and he smiled.  
  
  
  
this song can be found on TORI AMOS, BOYS FOR PELE  
  
or the live version on tori amos, concertina  
  
hey, my songs can be found on  
  
ANTiUnorigINaL, Classification:Unknown  
  
can't be found anywhere yet, still in mastering 


End file.
